


What Is Wrong With Me? (what is right with you?)

by Knight_fall



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, and love makes you do stupid things, but they love one another, neither Rhaegar or Lyanna are exemplary people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knight_fall/pseuds/Knight_fall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Lyanna stopped listening; instead, she dwindled off into some other world with her head on Cersei's shoulder; only the murmur of his voice was left somewhere in the corner of her brain and she still wondered if he sang."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I have no idea why I just wrote this, or anything in a modern AU in general, but the setting of it was mostly inspired by this lovely piece: [Track 01 - A Song for Lyanna by Rhaegar Targaryen by Emmy_Smokes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/775641). Do let me know if this concept is of any interest, if yes, I'll most likely continue (and I do apologize for anyone waiting on a sequel on my other fics, I'm having a bit of a block now so I needed to write something fresh to get me going again). Thank you!

 

This class hadn't even started, and Lyanna already suspects it's gonna be completely and utterly boring. She pulls on the gum in her mouth, keeping one end trapped between her teeth and extending the other to Cersei who just gives her a disgusted glare. It's amusement enough.

Jaime isn't here (predictably, since it was the first day), so Lyanna and Cersei are squished to the back and side in the auditorium, with the final seat beside Cersei being blocked by her giant pink bag. Their lives passed this way it seemed; from middle school, through high school through college, Lyanna, Cersei and Jaime were inseparable, to the extent that people now referred to Lyanna as the third twin. Not that this bothered her much, but she would still point out she was neither golden-haired nor as vain as the two of them, all of it tongue in cheek with just a bit of truth sprinkled on.

(Seriously, it still baffled her what exactly it was that they connected over.)

They are in their third year of music school, Lyanna and Cersei, and so is Jaime though not through his own hard work, as talented as he was. And that was not to say that Lyanna doesn't love him, but that didn't deny the fact some Lannister money found its way here and there for Jaime to remain in class with them as opposed to flunking his year. This had practically been an open secret, but Lyanna would still hit upside the head anyone who dared mention this before her. Thick as thieves and all.

The professor enters then, she knows because she hears the door, the hall quiets and Cersei keeps a breath trapped within her and straightens her back. Lyanna could not be half-assed to pull herself up from her position of being slumped in her seat so she doesn't see him, but what use of it anyway.

He's the guy whose job it would be to perfect their piano techniques, and that's why Lyanna knows him already to be entirely full of shit; her idea of piano lessons was less talking and more piano. The fact they were all angled in some ancient lecture hall that had exactly one piano and no one ever used anymore suggested the dickhead preferred the sound of his own voice and would effectively keep them hostage for two hours. Lyanna knew those guys throughout high school and she hated them. Pretentious pricks.

Even his name was pretentious. How pretentious do you have to be to be named Rhaegar Targaryen in this day and age? Lyanna supposed that was the fault of his parents, but _still._

„Good morning.“ A rich, yet stern, yet at the same time strangely dignified voice says, and it is in that moment that Lyanna becomes intrigued enough to rub her eyes and straighten in her seat.

Holy shit. The guy looked like he just walked out of some very not self-aware Halloween party, what, with him being well over 6 feet tall, the long, silver hair (seriously, what the fuck), the perfectly straight-cut tailored dark suit that basically turned him into an impossibly long dark silhouette, he's the character Stephen King only wishes he'd written. The only thing that seemed genuine about the guy was his voice, and Lyanna wondered for a moment if he sang. Then again, she might have been wrong, he said only two words after all.

Lyanna glances beside herself to Cersei, only to see drooling.

“Great, not you too.” She deadpans. Lyanna did not get how it was that half of the conservatory had their panties hitting the floor for this guy; how could anyone take him seriously? He'd been married to one of her professors, Elia, who taught flute and Lyanna happened to have taken it as a side course one semester. And everyone else around her bemoaned the fact she landed him.Though she'd never seen him before, Lyanna found it beyond annoying, the flock of dumb hens pining after their older, „refined“ professor who was more likely than not a total phony.

“What?” Cersei asks. “I have eyes.”

“Not much taste though.” Lyanna murmurs with a grin. “Look at that guy, he’s not even a human being, he’s basically a character. Or is that what you like about him?” Lyanna never understood that, this obsession other girls had with polished, fake guys. She was always a girl next door, in love with a boy next door. Except the boy next door grew up to be a cliche, in the form of a muscular football player with half the brains of her own. It’s not that she brags, it’s just a fact. But still, she loves him. She thinks she loves him.

“He is hot.” Is all Cersei says, gaze still hopelessly lost on the guy.

“No he’s not.” Lyanna insists.

“What’s wrong with him?” Cersei insists back.

Lyanna gazed back to the guy out of spite more than anything else. She scrutinized him trying to point something out, some obvious flaw yet she came up strangely empty. Short? Nah. Fat? No fucking way. Yes he had the weird hair, but it was just creepy, not exactly unappealing. _Please be ugly, please be ugly..._ He lifted his head from some papers he rummaged through and Lyanna saw his face was damn near perfect. Fuck. Lyanna gave up, and puffed with indignation instead.

“Well he’s just...he’s...I don’t know. Stuffy. Creepy. I bet he’s a Republican.”

“He hasn’t even said anything.” Cersei protests. “How can you know that?”

“I don’t know.” Lyanna says. “I just do. He looks like it, or something.” Lyanna wasn’t normally a hater, but this morning she woke up pretty damn early after months of sleeping in and that guy was damn near annoying in his polished perfection.

“Oh shut up.” Cersei says. “You’re just grumpy because Robert is no longer as good a lay as he once was. Apparently, it’s not that hot when you grow up and it turns out a guy doesn’t know half the words you use in your normal speech.”

 “Robert isn’t dumb!” Lyanna defends his honor, or rather her own.

“He so is.” Cersei says. “The dumb, muscled guy who punches first, and asks questions later. How is that for a boring character? But I guess that’s your own version of Oedipus’ complex or something. He’s basically Brandon.”

 Lyanna snorts. „You're the one to talk.“ She says. „You and Jaime used to go around telling people you would marry each other till you were 12 or something, at which point your parents sent you both to a shrink and locked you in separate rooms on different ends of the hallway.“

Cersei purses her lips. „Fair enough.“ she says. „But still, the guys I date are nothing like Jaime.“

„And perhaps that is why none of them stick around any longer than two weeks.“ Lyanna points out.

„Perhaps.“ Cersei sighs, and apparently too loudly, because the noise earns them attention from the stuffy guy.

„Ladies!“ Rhaegar exclaims in their direction. Lyanna barely choked back the chuckle that threatened to escape her, only releasing it into Cersei's shoulder immediately after the perfect professor guy looked away.

„Ladies.“ Lyanna repeats facetiously, red in the face from all the withheld laughter. „What is he, 200 years old? And what are we, wearing underwear under our jeans? _That_ information would be sure to blow his 200 year-old mind.“

„Well it would blow something.“ Cersei replies wistfully.

The next...uhm maybe an hour judging by Lyanna's leather wrist watch that already half tore through and was threatening to fall off any day, it went by with the guy talking and talking and talking. He spoke about inspiration and dedication and all that other empty platitude crap you can imagine a pretentious musician saying. Lyanna stopped listening; instead she dwindled off into some other world with her head on Cersei's shoulder; only the murmur of his voice was left somewhere in the corner of her brain and she still wondered if he sang.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

The night of the first day of her class was the family night.

It was something the Starks have been doing for ages (at least since Lyanna's mum died). Their dad figured his cooking skills wouldn't exactly bring his children together, so it was established that, one night a month, they would all go out and eat together and revel in some version of family atmosphere. He tried, her father, he really did, in a lot of ways out of which some worked better than others. Lyanna suspected the night out stuck around because there were no pictures of mum for anyone to look around for.

So anyway, there they are in this bistro, with Brandon shoving spaghetti down his throat and Benjen bemoaning the fact she was now twenty-one and got to drink but he didn't. Ned and father were silent, like they often were, their matching grey gazes solemn as they looked from herself to Benjen, who was still grasping for her cup of wine unsuccessfully.

Lyanna liked this place. It was a decently inexpensive barely-turning-a-profit-but-somehow-holding-on bistro with a cozy atmosphere and often pretty okay live music; more often than not, some anonymous guy, struggling artist would sit in some dark corner, play the guitar and sing along for a night's worth of free drinks from the bar and possibly some small monetary compensation. Lyanna had a thing for struggling artists (it was a wonder she never dated one, but then again, she dated Robert for pretty much her entire life), much in the way she had a thing for abandoned puppies when she was a kid. It was just her bleeding-heart nature, Lyanna liked broken things.

Yet tonight, she was in for a surprise, because it's not the sound of a guitar that drifts to her ears, it's a...harp? Well, that was fucking strange because why would someone who could afford to practice the high harp be playing in a place like this?

And then she hears it. The voice of the guy. And she shakes her head, wonders if she's finally gone mad and is on the track to start popping some pills because that's just impossible. But it's not. It's him. Lyanna craned her neck forward, trying to confirm her suspicion yet to no avail, the dark corner is dark, and not even a supposed silver strand would shine out of it.

 In lack of further evidence, Lyanna decides she's right. And as the wondering stops, a different kind of wondering starts, and soon enough, she finds herself with her tears on her cheeks and no idea how they got there.

„Lyanna, you're not crying, are you?“ Her younger brother asks with a glee in his voice.

Lyanna, given that she _was_ crying, she just had no fucking idea why, simply decided her brother should have the wine he wanted all night, and spilled it onto his head before she stormed out of the place and to her rented apartment. Her brothers are used to it by now (not the crying part, the running part—not even she knows why she cries), and they won't mind.

 

* * *

 

The twins are hanging in the hallway. Seeing golden hair, Lyanna insinuates herself into the crowd of students and instruments, pushing through and all the while trying to make sure she doesn't lose either her bag, three gigantic books on theory she's carrying around or her file with sheet music.

She sighs with relief once she's out.

„Hey you.“ Cersei says. „Where were you this morning? We had class. Even this guy showed up.“

This guy being Jaime.

„Hey.“ Jaime says and Lyanna just nods because she is yet to catch her breath, no need for pleasantries among people who have seen you in your puke, or in your underwear, or both at the same time.

„I was busy.“ She finally chokes out.

„Hmm.“ Cersei says. „Dishevelled hair, the same shirt from yesterday, and is that tomato sauce that I see on your collar? My bet is you and Robert ordered takeout last night and then banged at his place and you forgot to turn on the alarm.“

Cersei, for all her insightfulness, couldn't be more wrong, but Lyanna doesn't bother telling her that.

„Well, you know.“ She scratches her head, and Jaime laughs.

„You know Stark, I am yet to meet someone who is as unashamed about sex as you are, but is so fucking reclosed when it comes to anything else.“

Emotions are easy to hide, Lyanna wants to say, but hickies are not, especially when everyone is always fucking up in everyone else's business. Ironically enough, she's right about to take a dive into someone else's business too.

„So.“ She starts. „You know, the perfect silver hair professor guy.“

„Uhhmm.“ Cersei says.

„The perfect silver hair, what?“ Jaime interjects. 

„You would know if you were there yesterday.“ Cersei shoots him a deathly glare. Then, she turns her attention to Lyanna. „What about him?“

„Well, I was just wondering, what do you know about him? I don't know, he is married to another one of the professors around here, right?“ Lyanna was almost sure it was him that was Elia's husband, she just wasn't completely sure given that the woman had kept her maiden name.

„Yeah, he's married to Elia.“ Cersei says. „Why do you care all of the sudden? Yesterday you were all on about how he's a Republican.“

„Wait how would you know that?“ Jaime interjects again.

„That's what I said, and she doesn't.“ Cersei answers. „That's the point. She was just fucking grumpy yesterday.“ Then again to Lyanna. „Why do you even care all of the sudden about the guy, and whether he is married or not? I thought you hated all that petty gossip stuff.“

„Oh I get it.“ Jaime says. Both Cersei and Lyanna give him a glare. „You actually have the hots for the silver hair guy, and that's why you were trashing him yesterday, it's just a reflex. Like when a boy pulls on a girl's pigtails when he likes her. But now poor Robert pales in comparison, and you're gonna go cry in a corner because this guy is married. For all her talk of how she's different, it turns out Lyanna Stark is one of the girls after all. Join the club, baby. The entire female section of the conservatory, and a couple of guys too.“

„Enchanting theory, but no.“ Lyanna deadpans. She expects Cersei to have her back on this, you know the whole girls rule boys drool, but instead it's twins versus the world. She should have seen this coming.

„You know, Stark, I actually think I agree with him on this one. You were pretty adamant yesterday about how the guy is totally not hot a lot more than you had to be, and now you're all like inquiring about his marital status. Don't worry, it just means you're warm-blooded.“

Lyanna drummed her fingers on her file; she could just show them the sheet music, tell them what she saw yesterday or rather _heard_ , but somehow the idea of it—ah, it feels too fucking much like breaking some unspoken code, some bizarre betrayal of trust, and Lyanna just gives up.    

„You know what. Whatever.“ She says, then turns around to leave. Thankfully, there was another way to satisfy her curiosity about this.

 

* * *

 

Hmm, hmm, hmm, let's see.

Search bar. _Rhaegar Targaryen._ (at least there would be no confusion around which one, Lyanna doubted there was more than one person with such a name). And sure enough, his picture pops out. And sure enough, in it he's holding a harp. That can't be a fucking coincidence. It's on some sort of an article about some sort of reward he got. So why does the guy who is a professor and award winner playing both the harp and the piano spend his time playing in dive bars?

Another picture. This one is of him, Elia, and a little girl. _Their daughter._ Huh, she didn't even know Elia had a kid. They look cute together, a sweet little family, though the girl looks nothing like him.

Some sort of short biography pops up soon enough. Well if this was his short biography, fuck me. The guy was some sort of a prodigy. He won way too many stuff to count (and that's just what's listed here), he's 29 and he's already an established professor at a conservatory. And he's married to a seemingly perfect woman, and he has a daughter. Fuck, I'm living too slowly, Lyanna thinks. At 29, she would imagine herself to be a slightly more cynical version of herself now, maybe or maybe not still dragging Robert along for a ride. It feels cruel to even think it, but he doesn't play hard to get, and she knows he'll have no trouble finding a rebound. And he doesn't exactly play by the rules either. Lyanna mostly ignores it, because she doesn't feel like stirring the waters now or ever. He is their old family friend after all, the boy next door, breaking up with him now after all this time would much feel like running over Ned's puppy. And there's no need to. Lyanna was content with the way things were.

She closes the laptop, and reaches for her file. The sheet music she's lost her night's sleep over to write down, it's not some known piece, she's pretty sure; she ran it through some program that said so too. He must have written it by himself. Fuck, if he did, there was more to this guy than she realized. You could not fake something like that, you either felt it, or you did not. And suddenly Lyanna feels like a cynical character and not much else.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the first Rhaegar chapter. Do drop me a comment if you feel like it. :D

„Rhaegar, have you seen my earrings?“ His wife's voice is heard from the bathroom.

It takes him a while to slip out of his daydream, and register the question.

„I don't know, which ones?“

„The golden ones.“

That did not say a lot.

„I don't believe I have.“ He returns.

„Ugh, nevermind. They are here.“

Rhaegar feels mildly inconvenienced on the days he and his wife have classes starting at the same hour. That wouldn't matter much ordinarily, except Elia insists on them going together, even if they have two cars and both of them can very well manage on their own. And as it so often happens, he is always ready at least 15 minutes before she is, and he has to linger around, doing nothing. It is a trivial concern, he knows.

 „Rhaenys' babysitter still hasn't arrived.“ His wife informs him, now outside the bathroom and fixing her earring in place.

Just as Rhaegar takes a breath to assure she will be here soon, the doorbell is heard.

„Thank the Gods.“ Elia says.

At the door, Rhaegar briefly greets the girl while Elia gives her a quick multitude of instructions he finds he cannot pay attention to. And then they are out.

When he pulls into his parking spot, just outside the university building, Elia takes a moment to fix her lipstick. Rhaegar himself reaches for his suitcase from the backseat, only to halfway to the building realize it was the wrong one. He would curse, if he made a habit of it.

„I need to get back to the car.“ He tells her. „I forgot something.“

Elia gives him a peck on the lips, one that is sure to leave her lipstick on him, and then she goes inside the building.

Once he reaches the car, Rhaegar makes sure to also grab a tissue; so preoccupied with wiping his mouth, he finds himself crashing into someone on his way in.

„Oh, sorry.“

„No, no I am sorry.“ He says automatically, even before he sees he'd crashed into no more than a wisp of a girl, and sent all her papers flying over the floor.

„Gods, my deepest apologies...“ He crouches, to help her pick up the contents of her file, but she has that look in her eyes, deer in the headlights wide, and it makes him do a double take. Gods, she had the greyest eyes he had ever seen. She looks back at him, and in an oddly self-conscious moment, Rhaegar prays there's no lipstick left on his face.

She blinks away then, breaking eye-contact and suddenly he feels awkward for staring. For a moment, he just watches her as she collects her papers; her hair is dishevelled, her collar is crooked and he realizes he'd seen her before. Where he does not know, but he had. She was probably one of his new students; his brain had developed an odd way of scanning and memorizing the numerous names and faces he'd encountered over the years.

She rises to her feet and he does too; yet, just as he is about to muster another apology, she briefly glances at him and then escapes in the opposite direction, leaving him with the words at the tip of his tongue. Gods, this was  just what he needed, to freak out his students. 

Looking after her helplessly for a moment or two, his eyes finally fall to a forgotten paper on the floor. Lifting it, Rhaegar was just about to call after her, but it is then that his eyes fully register the paper's contents, and the words don't tumble from his lips. _But how? This is impossible._

„Hey Rhaegar, how's it going?“ One of his colleague's voice calls out, and Rhaegar realizes he's still standing in the frame of the doors. Deciding to mull on this later, he folds over the paper twice, and shoves it inside his suit jacket. 

The rest of that day is spent trying to find out the name of the mysterious girl he crashed into and the owner of that paper (though Rhaegar was most certainly the owner of that which was written on it). She had been one of his new students, he was certain of it, but unfortunately, looking through lists of names told him little when they didn't come with photos attached.

In his curiosity, he had even decided on the most dreary method of all, calling for all his students name by name for the entire day, hoping a slim, pale hand would peer out to one of these names. Then, he could discreetly request that she meet him in his office afterwards, where he would investigate how exactly it was that this girl got into possession of what she did.

By the end of the day, in spirit he had given up, even if he mechanically kept to this task. This was his last class for today.

„Cersei Lannister.“ He says, rubbing his forehead. Only then does he remember the whole point is actually looking at his students so he may recognize her, so half-heartedly, Rhaegar looks up to see an eager blonde holding a hand up.

It is the person beside her that makes him do a double take, and sure enough, there she is, slouching in her seat and nibbling on a pencil. His finger traces over the name just below the last he called, and triumphantly, with strength he calls.

„Lyanna Stark.“  

* * *

 

Just as he bidded her to do, she is waiting for him after class and outside his office. It is fairly dark in this part of the hallway, one of the lights is out, but he sees the corner of her mouth rising as she chews on gum, and a cigarette, stuffed behind her ear. Rhaegar takes his keys and turns them in the lock, letting her enter first, and taking the opportunity to retrieve the cigarette. He moves past her, and puts it on his desk. He sees her eyes slightly widen.

„You know, smoking is not allowed within the perimeter of the conservatory. They are pretty serious about this rule. If the dean were to see you with this, he might even take disciplinary action.“

 „Is that why you called me?“ She asks quietly. „You gonna report me?“

Rhaegar smiled, but he didn't know why. „No, I have better things to do than judge my students' smoking habits. I am merely warning you that others might be differently inclined.“

„Hmm. Okay.“ she says. „Thank you.“ She turns to leave then.

„That is not why I called you.“ He calls after her. She stops and turns on her heels.

„Why then?“ She asks shyly. Her voice is low and husky, he noted, less suitable for a female student and more an adolescent boy. She also dressed like one.

Instead of verbally answering, he extends her the paper from this morning, figuring that would be answer enough.

She takes one look at it, then her mouth flies open.

„Uhh, okay.“ She clears her throat. „This will probably sound bizarre, but I...I heard you playing the other day, in the bistro, and I, I don't know, I liked the piece so I went home and I wrote it down. I must have dropped it this morning when I ran into you, I...I promise I won't tell anyone...“

„You did drop it this morning.“ Rhaegar interrupts her. Then he frowns for a second, brain just now catching up to everything she said. „Wait, you said you wrote this down? By yourself? After hearing it once?“

„Yeah.“ She says.

He clears his throat. „You have quite an ear, in that case. There's a mistake in the third line, but otherwise it's impeccable.“

She surprises him when she says, „I know.“

He merely narrowed his eyes at her. She seemed to fidget under his gaze.

„I mean, since I wasn't gonna show that to anyone, and especially not you, I merely wrote it down for myself, I took the liberty to...correct that part to what I thought sounded better?“ She rushed to correct herself. „Not that it matters what I think, I'm sure you knew what you were doing...“

She's a mess and for a moment Rhaegar thinks he finds it charming.

„Did you tell anyone else about this?“ He asks instead.

„No.“ She assures him. „Nor will I. I'm sure you have your reasons for why you play your private pieces anonymously...in bars.“

„In that case, I appreciate your silence.“ He returns.

After she leaves, something keeps bugging him, making him feel restless and instead of picking up his stuff and going home, Rhaegar takes a moment to run her own version over the piano. Remarkably enough, he decides he likes it better than the original.

„Thank you, Lyanna Stark.“ He hears himself saying to the empty air around himself.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

From his position on the bed, Rhaegar watches as his wife sits beside him, and spreads some kind of skin cream over her olive ankles. He watches yet he hardly sees; his own mind is preoccupied with other things. He is a bad husband, he is pretty sure.

 It is not what he thinks about that makes him feel guilty—his thoughts are perfectly justifiable in their wonder and curiosity—not at all strange. It is what he's not thinking of that is giving him a headache.

How his eyes aren't tracing over his wife's bare legs with appreciation or desire, rather boredom and how he is not in a particular mood to ravish her even though it had been more than a month since they'd last had sex. Or the fact she does not seem to care about it either, and thus neither of them is willing to reach for the other, try to extract some obligatory matrimonial affection that will prove itself mildly enjoyable during and maybe after the fact, but not before, never before. Perhaps he should revel in this comforting feel of being settled, the domesticity, yet instead he wondered if being settled had any value when being unsettled was never any concern at all.

Elia asks if he wants her to turn on the TV and he says no. She shrugs and settles under her covers, then reaches for the book that is on her nightstand.

Eventually, Rhaegar decides to voice his thoughts into the silence.

„Do you know of a girl named Lyanna Stark?“ He asks of his wife.

Her face is at first frozen, perhaps in mild irritation he interrupted her in reading, but she puts her book down, and her dark eyes flicker away with amusement.

„Do not let that girl fool you.“ She tells him. Rhaegar frowns, wondering in what possible way could she fool him, and why, and maybe a part of him is afraid it had already happened. But Elia clarifies then.

„She will pretend to read from sheet, but I swear it by the gods, she plays it all by ear. I'm not even sure she's musically literate. I used to snatch her notes away to catch her doing it, I threatened to fail her for the semester, but it did no good. I didn't fail her in the end, she was one of my best students despite that, it was just that she was so damn stubborn.“

 _Stubborn_ _._ Rhaegar could imagine that.

„Why are you asking me about her?“ Elia asks then. „Is she in your piano class?“

„Yeah.“ Rhaegar responds idly. „She is in my piano class.“

He doesn't bother explaining to his wife that was most definitely not the primary source of his curiosity about this girl.

The rest of that academic year passes...interestingly. Perhaps this should be obvious with the mere fact Rhaegar finds it appropriate to nearly spy on his student the rest of the year, by paying attention when and which rooms she uses for practice. Practice, the term used loosely, for while Lyanna follows the program he had assigned to her to play for the finals, she plays her own choice of pieces too that is anything but conservative, yet somehow she makes them all work. Rhaegar eavesdrops like she were a teacher and he an impressionable student, he eavesdrops and smiles and ignores the pile of applications he had gotten for the TA position under him next year.

She doesn't even have a piano of her own, she told him this on one occasion and it is unbelievable just how good she is regardless. And dedicated, too. Yet, whenever Rhaegar finds an excuse to burst into the piano room with her in it, there is no sheet music before her, and her cheeks are slightly reddened. He does not give her trouble for it. She is just that good.

Once, he is sorting through old papers, for gods know which godforsaken reason, and he stumbles upon a four-hands piece he had saved from the time he was a student himself. Back with both of them as undergrads, he remembered once asking Elia to practice it with him (he so very eagerly wanted to hear all four hands together even if he could play two by himself), yet she shook her head, laughing and saying she had no idea how she passed any of her piano requirements, she simply detested the instrument and could not be forced to play it in her spare time. She loved the flute, and the two of them agreed to disagree. Yet, Rhaegar kept the piece.

He does not know which devils drove him to show it to Lyanna. Perhaps it was his own fault, given that he had not assigned her a partner for it before the fact, but the moment she sees it's a four-hands she grins widely and makes him play it with her.

He sits beside her, vaguely smelling the scent of her perfume—blue winter roses, he somehow knew. Her eyes are even more grey now than from the distance, the dishevelled, raven hair sits on her head much like a bird's nest, and she tries to get the stray strands to stay behind her little ear. Rhaegar almost reaches to help her, but in the last minute he stops himself, and turns his gaze to the piano before him instead. Her hands are thin and pale, dainty, nimble fingers with clunky metal bands on almost each one playing over the keys. A wrist watch clings to her little wrist (the right one, as it so is, she's left handed which he'd noticed also), the black leather worn out and chaffed so much it looks like it's about to fall off. He doesn't know why he finds the sight beautiful, but he does.

She frowns and curses under her breath at the notes before her, and she finally gives up, and asks him to play her section just so she may hear it once. After that, Rhaegar could have sworn she's mastered it before he did, which was in itself remarkable. She grins, teasing, tells him he's good but she's better and Rhaegar can do little else than agree.

Somehow, over the year, they have reached this level of discourse with one another; it is not uncommon for outstanding students to happen to form more friendly bonds with their teachers than with other students, or so Rhaegar keeps telling himself. Taking smoke breaks every once in a while, and hiding from the headmaster whilst doing this when he doesn't smoke nor is he rebellious or a student is more difficult to explain away. Even Elia sniffs it on him, asks him if he had suddenly developed an affinity for „cancer sticks“ as she called it. She did not ask for further explanation so he did not offer one; his wife only warned him that no matter what he does, he is not to smoke in front of Rhaenys, lest she got it in her head to smoke too, gods forbid. Rhaegar simply promised he wouldn't.

As a good employer, a good professor, he should wait until the finals are done to start mentioning the TA position to any of his students. Yet, he cannot help himself, this level of uncertainty regarding her presence next year somehow taxes on him more than it should be allowed to.

So he mentions it, and in return gets the most agonizing answer of all: she bites down on her red lip, and then shyly tells him she'll think about it—the shyness meaning she was discomforted by something, which he very well learned by now. And just like that, Rhaegar is in limbo again. He asks her jokingly if any other of the few conservatories in the country are trying to woo her, steal his precious student, she says it's not that, but despite of this assurance, she behaves awkwardly the rest of that day and then takes the first opportunity to leave. She says she will give him her definite answer after she is done with finals. And somehow, Rhaegar is left feeling high and dry.

The day of her last final comes. Him actually finding her that morning was a good sign she was not avoiding him, and thus Rhaegar lets himself tentatively expect a positive answer by the end of the night. Much like the others, she passes this one with flying colors. He knows, because he sneaks out from his own finals when it's her turn and tries to inoffensively listen from the other side of the door, given that he was not in her grading committee. Walking to his own doom, he leaves her a note in her jacket pocket to meet him afterward in the lone part behind the building where they (well she) used to grab a smoke.

She does and she is ecstatic. She is grinning widely, those grey eyes bright with joy as she retells him everything, how she nailed the transition sequence too which was her weakest point, and Rhaegar can only smile and nod, and not mention he knows because he heard it all, because he could not help himself and stay away.

And then, she takes a deep breath, and in a strenuous, calm voice declares that she has thought about it a lot, and she will take the position as his TA if he still wants her (which of course he does, how could he not). He tells her thus. She is so beautiful when she is happy; gods she is always beautiful but particularly then. And then he doesn't know why, is it her own joy overflowing and flooding him, or his own at these news, that she will stay, that she will stay with him, but Rhaegar suddenly and lethally drops out of character he'd been playing his whole life, and does the most impulsive, stupidest thing he'd ever done—he kisses her.

When he pulls away, there are tears budding in her eyes, and, oh gods, he is the worst person alive. There is no apology, there is no excuse, the only thing that seems fitting right now is for him to drop into the ground, but somehow he collects himself enough to assure her he didn't mean it, and how so so so fucking terribly sorry he is for being the stupidest person alive and doing this incredibly stupid thing, but she won't stop crying, oh gods.

„I was happy this morning.“ She snaps at him through the tears. „I was happy, and confident and I finally felt like I had _some_ grasp on things, that maybe I can handle this, I can do this, I can both ace my finals and I can deal to work around you, because that is a fucking most amazing, awesome chance and I don't want to miss out. But then, you.“ She glares at him. „You, you had to go and kiss the idiot of your student that had like such a fucking cliche gone and fallen in love with her married professor, and has been trying the entire year to pretend like she's a normal, sane person around him that doesn't feel all the time like she's two seconds away from dissolving and doing something stupid.“

And Rhaegar's vocabulary is suddenly dissolved into monosyllabic sentences. „What?“

„You're blind, that's what.“ She tells him with a sniffle. „I have been in love with you for a whole year without you having a clue. Gods.“ she sighs. „Now not only can I not stay here, I better move across the globe lest I somehow survive the shame of this meltdown.“

„No.“ Rhaegar is quick to protest. „You don't have to go anywhere. Nothing is changed. This was my mistake not  yours, and that's what it was, a mistake. We can get past it—I mean we as a professional relationship can get past it.“ Then, as if to cancel out everything he'd already said, he begs her. „Please don't go.“

„How do you want me to stay?“ She asks him in a cracked voice. „Like myself, or like your student?“

Rhaegar could lie, and perhaps lying would give him a better chance of correcting all of this. Yet, he says the truth. „I don't know. I think both.“ Then, in another foolishly daring move, he lets a hand move to cup the side of her face. „I just want you, Lyanna.“

„I want you too.“ She mumbles shyly, and it doesn't escape him that she'd ever so slightly leaned into the touch. Then, she briefly meets his eye. „But, I don't know if I can do it, I don't know.“

When she turns to leave, Rhaegar can only pray that in his stupid stupidity he didn't lose her in whichever form she was willing to give herself to him.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Lyanna did not know where she was going, she only knew she had to leave. After Rhaegar did what he did, which she could not even properly remember in her head, Lyanna could only run, lest she herself initiated something even more stupid. And as if the night could not get any worse than this, the sky had to open and cry alongside her. At least, the rain gave her a good excuse for why her black eyeliner was muddled.

Thinking to her apartment, how boringly empty it was, she knew it would not be enough of a distraction to the fact her profesor, future mentor, and in any case, a married man, _kissed_ her, or even worse, over the fact she liked being kissed by him. Lyanna decided she could not go to her apartment. She would not go to her father's and brothers' house either, she was not quite as insane to share this in any form with them, lest she wanted Brandon punching out Rhaegar before the whole university to see, and she did not trust herself enough right now to fend off their undoubtable barrage of questions. Robert was out for much the same reason. That left the twins.

And sure enough, Lyanna shows up at their doorstep, looking like a wet mouse more than anything else. It is Jaime who opens the door, his eyes widen and just as he is about to start interrogating her, Cersei shows up in the hallway and shoos him away. If there was ever any time she was grateful for her bossy nature, it is now even if she is not sure if she exchanged one type of torture for the other. Yet as soon as Jaime disappeared from sight, Cersei's demeanor softened. Lyanna wondered if beside the rain, she had heartbreak written all over her face.

 „Come on in, Stark.“ Is all Cersei tells her.

* * *

 

Cersei is oddly unfazed as Lyanna explains everything, first having changed out of her soaking clothes and into dry pants and sweatshirt. No dirty jokes, no I told you so, and no endless teasing about how she had become everything she hated. Her friend was being a good sport about it, keeping her tongue tied even with no doubt endless comments swimming up to her mind, and it was much appreciated. Lyanna was not sure she could handle outrage right now.

„So that is it?“ Cersei asks once she is done talking. „You didn't sleep together?“

„No,“ Lyanna assures. „I'm telling you, he just...kissed me and then I ran outta there. Honestly, I was afraid, that if I stayed...“

„That you would have.“

„So this is bad, right?“ Lyanna asks. „I mean, for fuck's sake, he is married. What was I thinking? What was _he_ thinking?“

Cersei sighs. „Darling, he is a man. They do half their thinking with their dick.“

Lyanna gives her a glare of death. „I thought you were supposed to be helpful.“

„Fine.“ Cersei says. „So, this is simple: do you want to?“

„Want what?“

„To sleep with him.“

Did she? No, that would most certainly be up there on the list of worst things a student could do to screw up their reputation or any prospect of a future career, not to mention cruel to his wife. And Robert, ugh, only thinking about it had been depressing. No, Lyanna certainly could not have the nerve to do something like that. Could she? But with all that out, somehow shoved out of the picture, did she want to? Gods, if that mere peck on the lips felt the way it did, she could not help but wonder how it would feel to properly kiss him, or be pressed against him, or be held by him...This wasn't fucking helping.

 „I don't know.“ Lyanna finally says. „I mean, if we were different people, I would want to but...I don't think I can.“

„No matter what you do, I have to tell you Stark, there are a lot of girls that would kill to be in your shoes right now. I mean, we both know Robert is totally not right for you, that the spark between you is long gone and that you're only still seeing him because of Ned, because of some bizarre Stark pride or whatever. I won't pretend to understand. I know you know that he cheats, and I know that you don't care. Which should also tell you something. But lately, he'd been really into it. Jaime himself saw him with some blonde at _Stars_.“

 _Stars_ was their old hangout spot, and big-boobed blonde bimbos have always been Robert's thing, sort of in the vein of fucking that which you don't have at home. He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. Suddenly the only words in Lyanna's head were: _Fuck it._

* * *

  

That first morning after weekend was over, Lyanna headed over to the university. She felt a sort of an uneasiness, restlessness lingering in her muscles, and, instead of waiting for an elevator, she took the steps, two at a time, until she reached the floor of Rhaegar's office. She straightened herself out, and after much deliberation, knocked, but that only served the doors opening ajar. Thinking him inside, Lyanna pushed in. His office had been awfully bright, the curtains had not been properly drawn, and the chair behind his desk was empty. On the table, there was a small, black leather box that stood out among the mountains of paperwork. Lyanna decided to ignore it all and simply wait for him, at least she did until she saw it had a note on top of it. She got close enough only to see what it said. It said: _For L._ Curious, Lyanna opened the little card.

_Regardless of what you decide, I'd like you to have this. It's your graduation present. -R_

It was a black leather wrist watch, much in the style of one she already possessed, however, completely new. It was of a small enough round shape, without the number markings, but with little silver squares for 12,3,6 and 9. Lyanna decided immediately that she liked it.

„Lyanna.“ Rhaegar's surprised voice came from the doors. Lyanna got startled for a second; she felt like she had been caught doing some unlawful deed, even if she had been only waiting for him in his office, and looked at a card that had her initial on it. She turned around, still holding the box with the watch in her hand.

„I see you found your present,“ Rhaegar says.

„Yeah,“ Lyanna cleared her throat. „I did and I really like it. Thank you. In fact, I'm sorry for barging in like this, it's just that the doors were half-open, and I thought you were here, and then I saw this. In any case, you probably did not expect me, although since you left this on the table, maybe you did after all...„ Gods, she was being a babbling mess.

„Hoped more than expected,“ Rhaegar candidly says.

Lyanna cleared her throat again. „In any case, I came here to tell you that I've thought about it, and that I am okay working for you. Here is the needed documentation along with an application.“ Lyanna unceremoniously put down the file she brought with her on his table. „And also,“ her eyes lowered to the ground, searching for something. Rhaegar was looking at her, perhaps even squinting with curiosity, she knew even if she could not see it. She decided to take the plunge. „I came to tell you that I like you, and that, any relationship we may or may not have, does not need to affect our professional relationship.“

 „Oh,“ says Rhaegar in a low tone, slightly frazzled. Then he clears his throat. „What I mean is, I did intend to have a conversation with you about that, however, I must admit, not quite in that direction.“

„You've changed your mind,“ Lyanna says, deflating.

„No,“ says Rhaegar. „Yes.“ He shakes his head. „It's more complicated than that. The feelings behind my advances from the night before are still there, I won't deny that, but the advances themselves... It was inappropriate. And as your senior, as your professor, I should have known better. I apologize.“

Lyanna scoffs. „Don't treat me like a child. You don't get to kiss me and then treat me like a child. I know, you have a wife, I'm your student, it's all too complicated. If you've changed your mind, just say so. I'm not made of glass, I won't break. Just don't give me that bullshit excuse, I don't care about your age-“

„Perhaps you should,“ Rhaegar points out. „And, realistically speaking, it is quite common for students to develop harmless crushes on their professors. You are not being serious about this, and you _are_ practically a child, Lyanna; what are you, if you were 3 years younger, you'd be a minor-„

„Two,“ Lyanna says. „If I were two years younger, I'd be a minor. I started school a year earlier.“

„Great,“ Rhaegar mutters sarcastically.

Lyanna pinched the bridge of her nose; she started walking up and down in his office. „Here is how it is. I cannot and do not want to make you do something that you don't want to do. But you don't get to tell me how I feel, or that you're too old for me, or whatever. I know what I want. The question is, do you?“

Rhaegar sighs. „I suppose there's no denying it,“ he says.

„Okay then. I thought so too,“ Lyanna says, and then kisses him.

* * *

 

Later on that day, they make sure to take their leave separately, and meet each other at a safe distance from the conservatory. They walk down the street together, he in his suit, and she in her ripped jeans, and she wonders what they look like to other people. On a whim, she discreetly takes his hand and holds it until they reach her apartment. If Lyanna was ever glad she had her own place, it was then. It was where her father couldn't see who she brought home, Brandon couldn't threaten to cause a fist fight, and Ned wouldn't simply give her his silent, disapproving look for betraying his friend. Today she could do without it all.

 Once they are inside, Rhaegar comments on the interior. A nice place, he says. He looks around paying more attention than Lyanna did in the year since she rented this place. She suddenly wonders if something there might reveal her utterly sloppy nature, her lack of taste or embarrass her in some third, unpredictable way. But that is unlikely, since they are still in the hallway, and once Rhaegar has had his fill of looking at her coat-hanger and carpet, Lyanna pulls him in and kisses him again. She rids him of his jacket, and deciding to skip giving him the tour of the living room, drags him straight to the bedroom.

Lyanna doesn't quite know why she is so bold. It's not like her - at least it's not like her when she's with Robert. Perhaps it's the fact that she'd just found out about Robert's last sidepiece, but then again, she doesn't want to think about Robert at all. This wasn't about him. It was about Lyanna stopping living her life for everyone else, and starting living it for herself.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

They kept meeting like they did for months, and one day, laying in bed in Lyanna's apartment, Rhaegar is horrified (but not that surprised) to realize for a hundredth time he is in love with her. A slumbering Lyanna lies beside him (and oddly enough, doesn't snore) and he looks over all her features, from her heavy eyelids, to  the tip of her little nose, to her red lips, and he cannot decide which of it he would rather kiss.

 _It's just sex, stop being so dramatic,_ he can hear Lyanna's own voice in his head, and perhaps for her it's true, but he is hopelessly and terribly in love with a woman who is not his wife. It unsettles.

Rhaegar got out of bed, and carelessly slipped into what clothes of his happened to be laying around in the vicinity, which happened to be his boxers and pants (only Gods knew what Lyanna did with his shirt). Then he went over to the large, lit window where he liked to think.

Her hands join him soon enough, slipping under his arms, and tracing all over his chest. It was a rare and much cherished occasion - for some reason, wearing Lyanna out was the only sure recipe of prying affection out of her. It irritates him sometimes, that she'll gladly fuck his brains out, but then think twice as his hand slips around her waist as they fall asleep.

„What are you thinking about?“ she asks of him sweetly, taking a break from kissing the skin above his shoulder blade and spine, and y _ou_ is always the answer. _Only you._ Rhaegar was sick of hiding any longer. He sighs. „I think I'm going to talk to Elia about getting a divorce.“

„What?“ Lyanna asks, voice immediately alarmed and eyes wide as eggs, and he knows any semblance of a blissful aftermath is over.  Sometimes he forgot that when it came to certain things, Lyanna was as timid as a fawn, easily frightened and sent for the hills, and one needed to tread lightly. „No, you're not. Rhaegar, we talked about this. We're fine the way we are. Remember?“

Before he has a chance to begin an argument, and ask her what made her think sneaking around any longer is a good idea, her phone rings, and they both jolt away from each other, that feeling of being caught red-handed never really going away. She only gives him a look that says _we'll talk about it, okay_ , _don't do anything stupid until then_ , then bare-legged as she was, and in old ripped T-shirt with a stag on it that barely covers her behind, she reaches over to her nightstand where the damn thing is buzzing.

 „Hello?“ It doesn't take too long into the conversation for her to frown. „What the fuck? Is he in the hospital right now? I'm coming right over.“ She hangs up.

„One of your brothers?“ Rhaegar asks, having a sinking feeling their weekend alone was coming to its abrupt end.

„It's Robert,“ she says. „He got into a car crash. I have to go.“

Robert, about whom Rhaegar usually did a good enough job of convincing himself he did not mind, he had a wife after all, and was in no position to demand fidelity from anyone. But there had been more to it, Robert was Lyanna's familiar territory, not only a lover but a friend, and despite Lyanna's insistence she was not in love with him any longer, not truly, a certain closeness, intimacy existed between them, forged through the years of knowing each other, and not easily erased. Rhaegar might have been her lover for the past few months, but Robert had been her family.

Thus, all that is left for Rhaegar is to ask whether she would like for him to drive her, and she says yes. She hurriedly puts on her jeans and boots, and tosses him his shirt, which has been laying wrinkled behind her bed.

Twenty minutes later, they're at the hospital, and then with a nurse's help, at the right floor too, _not the ICU_ , Rhaegar notes, it likely hadn't been anything serious then. Regardless, a pack of worried Starks waits in the hallway nearby, and seeing her brothers and father, Lyanna pulls a reluctant Rhaegar forward, even with both of them knowing this had been a family matter, and he didn't truly belong in that waiting room.

„You've made it, Lya,“ Her second eldest brother, Ned says with relief, and Rhaegar can see the deep frown in his forehead, evidence of worry for his best friend.

„Where is he?“ Lyanna asks. „Is he okay?“

Ned sighs. „He frightened us, but he is fine, as fine as he can be. A couple of his ribs are broken, and he's slightly concussed. He's been asking about you.“ Right about then, the nurse shows up, and ushers a very distressed Lyanna in behind the open white blinds. The look on her face is like nothing Rhaegar had ever seen as she sits by Robert's bedside and holds his hand, so much he soon enough felt uncomfortable for staring.

„You drove her here?“ The inquisitive, and slightly bored voice of Brandon Stark comes, and turning, Rhaegar recites the lie he and Lyanna had come up with in the car. „We had been grading papers together when the phone call came. Which reminds me,“ he says; suddenly feeling terribly out of place, he cast a mock glance at the watch on his hand. „I should probably get back to it. Give Robert my best wishes of a quick recovery.“

Uttering his final courtesies, Rhaegar moved to take his leave, but not before sending one last look Lyanna's way, and noticing she'd laughed at something the bed-ridden Robert had said.

Surprisingly enough, he comes home to a medical situation of his own, Rhaenys running a high fever, and a worried Elia by her side. Elia checks her forehead every few minutes, and talks about taking her to the hospital, and Rhaegar can no more than curse himself for thinking of nothing but Lyanna sitting in that hospital room, holding Robert's hand.

Then, after Rhaenys falls asleep, an exhausted Elia sniffles on his shoulder, like he is her family, which he is. Rhaegar smoothes her dark hair, and kisses her forehead, and before he knows it, he is kissing her. It's familiar and safe, and for the first time in months, Rhaegar finds pleasure in his own marriage bed. With his wife laying in bed next to him, unsuspecting, the last thought that passes through his head is Lyanna.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry, I know I've neglected this story, but I first wanted to sort of work out where it's going before I updated again. Do leave a review if you feel like it :D


	7. Chapter 7

 

Today had been the day Robert was getting released from the hospital.

Much like her brothers did, Lyanna sat in the waiting room, pretty much twirling her thumbs while Ned helped Robert get all his stuff in a bag – something she should have been doing, she supposed, but Ned had always been a better girlfriend to Robert than she ever was. Except for in the sack, Robert was obnoxiously straight, so it was the one department in which Ned would never do. Lyanna for herself had no such needs anymore – or rather she had them, but she was getting them satiated elsewhere. Thinking of which, she felt her phone vibrate in her hand.

„Hello?“ She answered moving away, turning her head quickly to assure her brothers were still at a sufficient distance, behind her back. Then with a bit more vigor, she allowed herself to inquire. „Rhaegar, where the hell have you been? You've been AWOL for at least a week now. I've been calling and calling-“

„I know,“ He returns in a tired, almost apologetic voice. „I am sorry, I really am. There had just been so many issues lately, Rhaenys was feeling sick, and I...“

 _His daughter has been feeling sick._ Something ugly pierced through Lyanna's guts. As much as she liked to pretend she and Rhaegar were two rogue students secretly getting it on, the reality of his married life sometimes struck. She cleared her throat. „No, it's fine really. I totally get it, I just, I didn't know. I hope she's feeling better now.“

„She is, she is. Anyway,“ he clears his throat. „I'm calling to see if perhaps you'd like to meet today.“

„Sure,“ Lyanna tried to sound more casual than she was feeling. „Uhm, tonight at my place? I can't any earlier than that, Robert is getting discharged from the hospital today, and then we're having lunch at the house, it's gonna be this whole thing Father and Ned are organizing, and I don't think I can escape.“

„Tonight sounds perfect, then. I'll see you. Take care, Lyanna.“ 

 „Uhm yeah, you too. Bye.“

She hung up and turned on her heel, only to see Benjen standing right behind her, with his arms crossed over his adolescent chest.

„Ben,“ she called in a voice that relayed slight panic. She cursed herself for it. „What are you doing here?“

Benjen seemed less interested in answering questions, and more interested in asking them. „Who was that?“

Lyanna was taken aback by her baby brother speaking to her like that. From Brandon she would expect the whole interrogation thing, sure, and she'd tell him to go fuck himself. But Benjen did not make a habit out of it. „No one. Why do you care?“

Benjen only kept staring at her with slanted eyes, in a manner that made it clear he was not gonna drop this. Perhaps honesty was the best policy. At least partial honesty.

„It was Rhaegar, okay? He's calling to see if I'll be in tomorrow. Now stop being a weirdo and move.“

„Rhaegar, huh?“ Benjen asks unimpressed, his arms still crossed over his chest. „Since when is he Rhaegar, and not your boss?“

„Since always. Ben, you know I'm friends with him. I was even since I was a student of his...“

Benjen shook his head, and put his hands in his pockets. „Look, Lyanna, all I'm saying is that you're acting weird. And I'm not the only one who notices.“

„What do you mean?“ Lyanna rushes, her tongue always going before her mind. „Do Father or Brandon think there is something going on? Because we're just friends and coworkers...“

„No,“ Benjen finally admits. „But I know you best, and I do. And just for the record, you have a tell when you lie.“

„What? What tell? Benjen, tell me,“ Lyanna shouted into her retreating brother's back. He turned around only to say, „If I tell you, then I'll no longer be able to tell.“

 _Fuck._ Now she had Benjen on her case as well. Lyanna pinched the bridge of her nose, and drew in a sharp breath.

 

* * *

 

 

„Do you think I have a tell when I lie?“

Rhaegar had at first frowned, then he turned to afford Lyanna an inquisitive look. „I make love to you for three hours, and that is all you have to say to me?“

Lyanna boisterously laughs outloud. „Make love?“ she asks. „I didn't realize you were so old-fashioned.“ Then, she snorts. „Besides, I believe you got plenty of feedback on that.“ For the sake of her neighbors, Lyanna hoped the walls of her bedroom were at least somewhat soundproof, as she unlike Rhaegar had not been particularly silent. He himself had been much too polite to comment on it, but the ever-graceful Robert had on one occasion informed her she howled much like the wolves did at the moon.

„So do I?“ she asked once more.

„Do you what?“ Rhaegar asks in return.

„Have a tell. When I lie.“

Rhaegar seemed to ponder this for a few seconds, until a deep melodious chuckle escaped him. „You do, actually.“

„What is it, then?“

„This,“ Rhaegar says, his long fingers picking up the pendant hung on a chain, and resting amidst her breasts. It had been her mother's. „You begin fiddling nervously with it.“

„No way, I do not! Do I? “ Lyanna frowned, trying to recall all the occasions on which this might have happened. Either way, she would make sure she never touches that damned pendant ever again. „Is there anything else?“

„There is, in fact,“ Rhaegar declares, smiling. „But I will not tell you what it is, because then I will no longer be able to tell.“

Lyanna gasped. „That's exactly what Benjen said. But you must tell me, you must,“ she begged, now dragging her fingertips down his chest like a cat. He laughed, but he did not seem to have any intent of budging.

 He kept that smile plastered on his face instead. „I am sorry, but I might just have to keep it confidential.“

„You are horrible, and I hate you,“ Lyanna announced; ceasing any further efforts, she then scooted back down in the sheets, having made it a point to not touch him in any way.

„Really?“ Rhaegar asked;  before she even had a chance to reflect on the silliness of the question, his fingers were at her sides and he was mercilessly tickling her. Lyanna laughed like a madwoman, all the while trying to squirm away from his attacks, but he was relentless and her efforts proved largely unsuccessful.

„Do you hate me now?“ He stopped just enough for Lyanna to yell out „I do!“ before he resumed the torture, and she once again began howling in laughter. 

„Okay, okay. I want a truce,“ she barely managed to say. Rhaegar's hands abandoned her waist, and came to pin her wrists on either side of her head.

„You do?“ He asked her, keeping insistent eye contact with her.

Lyanna solemnly shakes her head yes.

„Do you hate me still?“

Lyanna shakes her head no.

„And how about the opposite of that?“

 _Do I love you?_ All the humor of the previous affair went out of Lyanna's eyes. She thought for a second to simply ignore him, turn away at least until the question abandoned the air, but his arms staying on either side of her, like a cage, made this impossible.

With her wrists cuffed to bed still, Lyanna finally shot up to kiss him, grateful that this kept any future questions or complaints at bay.

 

* * *

 

 

Shortly after Rhaegar left, Lyanna grabbed her keys and her phone, and headed back to the house again. Her absence had, much like Benjen had implied, been noted, and in attempt of compensation, Lyanna had chosen to sleep back at home for a couple of days. But that had not been the entirety of it, in truth Lyanna had felt an acute need for a change of space, for something to clear her head.

Yet this did not happen, for even now with delicious spaghetti in front of her, and her brothers' laughs registering somewhere in the back of her mind, she could not think about anything else. _I cannot love him. I cannot._ Even for herself, Lyanna had avoided the question like the plague, and for him to just plain out ask it, or at least imply it, it was too much for her. She was in over her head.

Lyanna did not love anyone, did she? Well sure, she loved her father and she loved her brothers, she even loved the memory of her dead mother that she hardly remembered, but that was a different type of love. She loved Robert also, in some way, sometimes, felt accustomed to him was perhaps the better word, but no, none of those feelings had been _that_ quite, that dangerous, frightening mess that Lyanna vowed she would never get herself into. The reason her relationship with Robert was simple was because he loved her more than she loved him. The reason her relationship with Rhaegar was complicated was...well because she was too much of a coward to untangle it. That would require far too much introspection, vulnerability Lyanna wasn't even ready to admit to herself, let alone someone else.

She could not love him, she could not. Because he would never love her back, and even if he in some way, a little bit did, he would never leave his wife over it. _Fuck._

Why did she want him to want her, when she wasn't even sure she wanted him herself? The more Lyanna thought about it, the more she was sure she was simply insane; she was not commitment material after all, was she? The mere idea made her sick to her stomach. Or was that the spaghetti?

There had been little time to ponder it, since soon enough she found herself having to flee to the bathroom, with the inquisitive looks of her brothers following. She hugged the toilet seat and puked her guts up, _great,_ in the puke she could see the little strings of spaghetti and tomato sauce she had just swallowed.

What had come over her? Was she actually allergic to the thought of commitment? The thought of actually loving someone? Or the thought of loving someone without them loving her back?

But then something else had occurred to her. This wasn't the first time she had puked her guts up this week; the mere smell of that horrid sushi the other morning sent her to hell and back while Cersei swore there was nothing wrong with it. Then, there was something wrong with her?

The obvious had obviously been impossible, Rhaegar had been a complete and total condom stickler. Her pill taking was somewhat less meticulous, but still close enough, right? When was the last time she had her period? She couldn't remember, it was either last week, or the week before that, it had to be. No, it was before Robert went to the hospital. And then some. It had been almost two months. _Fuck._ Now she had greater issues than professing her unrequited feelings of love...

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've been on the roll with this one, so here's a super quick update. Do let me know what you think : D

 

_„There is something important we have to talk about. Let me know when you can meet.“_

That would do it, she supposed. Anxiety speared all throughout Lyanna's body, trembling at her fingertips. She could be nervous, but not like this, never like this. What would he say? What was she supposed to say? It was all one huge black pit of unresolved questions.

If she knew him at all, he would offer his support, ask her what she wanted to do. And then she would tell him she...had no fucking idea. No, she knew what she was supposed to do. And he would likely be fine with it too, she supposed. Unless he wanted her to keep it. Did she want to keep it? Ugh, none of this made any sense in her head anymore. She nearly flagged down the waiter for a tequila, but then remembered she couldn't have one, and that only served to keep her nerves on the edge. _One, two, three, four._ Her phone finally buzzes.

_„Sure, I'm free right now. I have something I need to talk to you about also. Let me know where you are.“_

She wrote back a one-word answer. _„Stars.“_

And sure enough, ten minutes later, she sees him through the front window, with a plastic file over his head, protecting his perfect silver hair from the rain that was dripping down in torrents outside. Lyanna almost smiled.

„Hey,“ he says, quickly taking a seat opposite of her, and putting down the file on the free leather chair beside. He seemed distressed somehow, but that was likely the rain, or more likely it was Lyanna projecting. With him being a regular, the waiter comes down with a double espresso shot even before another single word gets exchanged between them.

„So,“ Lyanna begins, clearing her throat. „You said you had something you needed to say to me.“ It was preferable for his presumably minor thing to go first, she supposed. 

„I suppose I did, yes,“ Rhaegar confirms, he himself clearing his throat. „But it can wait; you had something you wished to talk to me about also?“

 „Yeah, yeah, I did.“ Lyanna weakly confirms. „But I mean, it can totally wait.“

Rhaegar contorted his handsome face into a grimace that made her think it was quite the bullet he was biting. Then, he let it out. „Elia is pregnant.“

Lyanna nearly choked on her own spit. „What?“

He sighs. „I know. She just told me this morning. I have no idea how it happened; I mean, she was supposed to be on the pill, and I...I hardly ever touched her these past few months. I asked her if she was sure, and she said yes.“

 _His wife was pregnant. His wife was fucking pregnant._ Lyanna tried to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. Finally, in a hoarse enough voice, she managed. „Well, it's an opportune enough time, I suppose, if you're happy with it, that is.“ The next thing she said, she felt it piercing through her guts. „I've called you today to tell you that I think it would be wise if we would stop seeing each other.“

He appeared surprised enough, maybe even hurt, or that was again just Lyanna projecting.

„Oh,“ he said in a low enough voice. „Well,“ he licked his lips. „In that case, may I at least ask what brought this on?“

Lyanna cleared her throat again. „Well, these past few days, even weeks I suppose, I had a lot of thinking to do. For one, Robert ending up at the hospital, then even _this_ you're telling me now, I guess what we had going on had simply run its course. But,“ Lyanna looked down into her lap. „I hope that we can still be coworkers and friends.“

„Uhh, sure, I suppose,“ Rhaegar said in some indeterminate voice. „We always did say this wouldn't impact our professional relationship, so I suppose it ending doesn't need to impact it either. Or our general friendship.“

„In that case,“ Lyanna barely said. „I am glad you feel the same way.“

Feeling the uncomfortable silence between them stretching, and pressing on her more and more, Lyanna mock-looked at her phone then, she needed to escape. „By the way I should get going now, I'll see you tomorrow at your office, right,“ Lyanna said, having stood up and beginning to collect her stuff. „Uhh, okay then, I'll see you.“ As a gesture of good will for him, and as goodbye for her, she briefly came to peck his cheek, barely catching the corner of his mouth.

Having run outside, it took Lyanna good ten seconds to realize that it was raining, as well as that the raindrops weren't the only thing burning her face.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another quick chapter; as always, let me know of any thoughts you may have :3

 

One, two, three pregnancy tests. All positive. There went Lyanna's reasonable doubt. She was screwed. She was completely and utterly screwed.

What was she even meant to do with this information? Sure, telling the father of your child seemed to top the list, but Lyanna already tried that one, only to get another bomb dropped on her before she even could. What was she supposed to do now? Give the baby up for adoption? Have an abortion? Because she sure as hell wasn't equipped for dealing with one right now.

Someone was knocking on the bathroom door. „Lyanna! How long are you gonna be in there for? I have to go to school!“

„Just a minute, Ben. I'll be right out.“

 _Fuck._ Lyanna tossed the stupid things into the trash can beside her, making a mental note to get rid of them later before anyone else had a chance to see.

 

* * *

 

 

 _„The room 102 Ma'am. Your name will be called shortly.“_ Or so she said. Lyanna wasn't sure whether she wanted to kill the nurse for addressing her as ma'am, or because she had been waiting for more than half an hour now. Sure, she called in sick, she had nowhere else to be for today, but this didn't mean she wanted to be put in a timeout to deal with her screwed up thoughts and emotions.

_Do you have any enlightening ideas to share, my little accident? Because mommy is all out of spunk._

She was pretty sure the hormones had already started to kick in, because instead of entertaining how the hell was she going to get out of this mess, her stupid brain was stuck asking questions like _is it a boy or a girl?_ or _would it have dark curly hair, or silvery straight?_ The funny thing was, that if this was Robert's baby, Lyanna knew she wouldn't have even thought about it. Once she even had a scare, when stupid Robert insisted on barebacking, and in that brief window in which she thought she was pregnant, there wasn't even half a doubt in her mind on what she would do. There was no universe in which she and Robert should have children together. She and Rhaegar...well it just couldn't be in this one. There was no use in thinking it.

The doors behind her screeched; hoping that room 102 was finally getting vacated, Lyanna turned her head, only to be met with the sight of the proud Elia Martell beaming as Rhaegar stood beside her, resting one hand on the small of her back, and with another, shaking the doctor's hand.

 _Fuck._ Much like people did in bad movies, Lyanna started on a frantic mission to hide her existence; leaving her backpack on the chair beside hers, she got to her feet, and snuck around until her back was against the nearest wall. Staying behind it, she bit her lip and closed her eyes.

„Thank you so much for confirming it, truly. We were so happy when we found out,“ she could hear Elia's voice, thanking the doc.

„Indeed, thank you, and take care,“ Rhaegar says, and opening her eyes again, she could see his hand briefly slipping and then again resting against his wife's back. His eyes seemed to fall briefly to the backpack Lyanna had unluckily left behind, _fuck_ , but then Elia said something again, distracting his attention away. _Thank the gods._

After what felt like forever, they finally said their courtesies and moved toward the door; the last thing Lyanna saw was Rhaegar shooting one last look to her backpack as his wife's fingers intertwined with his own.

 _Phew._ At least she didn't get discovered, though she would have surely preferred not running into the happy couple at all.

The rest of her hospital visit seemed to come to pass her by; as she lay on the table with the ultrasound probe gliding over her stomach, and the doc's voice somewhere in the distance explaining the stuff on the screen, Lyanna could only think about the stable, accomplished glowing Elia, and Rhaegar as a perfect match by her side. Lyanna decidedly did not belong in that picture.

„You know,“ the lady doc says, handing her a tissue to wipe away the gooey gel stuff, „There are about three types of women I happen to see in my office. There are those who seem over the moon with the happy news, whether it had been planned or unplanned, and then there are those who seem like they would rather be diagnosed with cancer.“

„Let me guess, I'm the second sort,“ Lyanna says, pulling down her shirt and letting her legs hit the ground.

„No,“ the bright, chatty doctor says. „I said there are three types, remember? The third type, your type, simply seems conflicted. Do you want this baby?“

 _Did she?_ „No,“ Lyanna finally answers. „In fact it couldn't have come in a worse time.“

 „I can tell,“ the doctor says, „But that wasn't the question. How about the father, have you spoken to him yet?“

Lyanna sighs. „The father is out of the picture.“

„I see,“ the woman finally says. „Well, I can make the appointment, if that is what you want. But I would recommend you wait for a while, think about it some more. You still have time; we caught it pretty early, it has hardly been more than 7 weeks.“

„There is no need, “ Lyanna says, all the while picturing Rhaegar gently holding a baby in his arms, a little olive-skinned baby, the likeness of its mother, looking up at him with dark eyes. This would ruin everything for him. „I just want to get it over with as soon as possible.“

„Very well, then,“ the doctor returns, picking up a pencil from her white coat. „I will schedule you for a meeting with another doctor; since there's still time, per the protocol I can only schedule you two weeks away from this date, is that okay? So, you will still have some time to think about it if you need to.“

Lyanna gave the woman a nod, and moved to pick up her stuff.

Having later dropped by her apartment for some stuff, ignoring both Cersei's and Robert's calls - _no phone calls from Rhaegar,_ she couldn't help but note, that evening Lyanna returned to sleep at her house again, or rather puke the entire night. If you asked Lyanna at any point before, she would tell you that pregnant women get morning sickness. But not her apparently, because she got sick constantly, and spent her leisure time puking whether it be morning, afternoon, or night.

Again, a knock on the bathroom door. Lyanna forgot how fucking busy this house was, even with  Ned's and Brandon's rooms downstairs, and her only sharing the top floor bathroom with Benjen.

„Just a minute,“ she yelled out, washing one of her hands while she reached for the mouthwash in the cabinet with the other. _Okay._

Not even stepping out of the bathroom properly, Lyanna ran into her baby brother, who once again waited for her with his arms crossed.

„You know, Lyanna, you do not own this bathroom, and as I recall, you moved out. You don't even wear makeup, so what the hell are you doing in there for so long?“

„Nothing,“ Lyanna tried to sound casual. „You know, just lady stuff. Now move.“

Getting her brother off her back, or at least thinking she did, Lyanna went to her room and closed the door shut, only to get Benjen barging in not even three seconds later with his mouth open, and the dreaded pink box in his hand, that Lyanna forgot to throw out of the house. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words wanted to come out.

„Lyanna what the hell is this?“ Benjen asked loud enough that Lyanna feared he was gonna wake up and summon the entire house.

„Okay, okay, look I'll explain it all to you, but for starters please shut up.“

„Shut up?“ Her little brother asked, scandalized. „Shut up?! How can I shut up, Lyanna, you're pregnant!“ Just as those words left his mouth, Lyanna came up to him, and put a hand on his mouth. Benjen still tried to mumble something against it.

„Look, I'll let you go, and I'll explain everything if you promise to be quiet. Can you do that for me? Can you stay quiet?“ Wide-eyed, Benjen shook his head yes. „Or do you want Father and Brandon to come up now?“ He shook his head no.

„Okay then,“ Lyanna says, finally letting him go. She walked past him, and closed the door he left open shut. When she turned around to look at him, her brother's jaw was still miles away from his face.

„Lyanna...you're...pregnant.“ he more quietly managed to say.  „Then, what are you gonna do? Does Robert know?“

„It's not Robert's baby,“ Lyanna managed to mumble out.

„What?!“

„It's not Robert's baby.“

„Well, whose is it, then? Is it...“

Lyanna nodded, and closed her eyes. „It's Rhaegar's.“

„Shit,“ was all Benjen managed to say. Lyanna tended to agree with the sentiment. „Well, does he know?“

Lyanna sat back on her bed, and let out a puff of air. „No.“

„No? Lyanna!“

„Ben, I tried to tell him, okay? But that is not all.“

„It's not all?“ Benjen repeated, temporarily reduced to a broken record.

Lyanna prepared for another outburst. „His wife... she's pregnant also.“

„His wife is pregnant? Lyanna!“

„Shut up, okay? I know, I know, I get it. This is supremely fucked up. But it's not my fault, at least I don't think it is. We used protection, it just...happened.“

„Lyanna, you've been sleeping with a married man...“

„I know, Ben; can you please stop yelling at me? My brain is all scrambled, and you are gonna make me cry. Fuck.“ As if she wasn't crying already. Lyanna moved to wipe her sniffling nose, only to find it had already been filled with snot.

„Lyanna...“ her brother said, now softer. He came to kneel in front of where she was sitting. „We're gonna figure it out, okay? I'm gonna help you, and we will figure it out.“

„Benjen, you can't tell anyone...not Father, not Brandon, not even Ned.“ At least Lyanna supposed if one of her brothers had to know, she was glad that it was her sweetest little brother, Benjen, the one that she could always count on, the one who always had her back. Ned would judge, father would judge more, and Brandon would throw up a shitstorm.

„I am not gonna tell. I promise.“ Ben says. „But you need to figure out what you wanna do, Lyanna. You can't keep it a secret forever.“

„I went to the hospital today, you know to confirm, and to see how far along I was, and he was there with her. And after that, I set up an appointment there. But-“

„But?“ Benjen asks, his matching grey eyes staring back at her.

„But....I kinda, maybe feel a little like... I should keep it,“ Lyanna finally mumbles. „But I can't,“ she decides, rubbing her eyes. „He doesn't want this baby. He can't want this baby. And, this will screw everything up for him.“

 „Rhaegar is a tool,“ Benjen firmly decides. „Do not think about him, Lya. Just think about what you want to do.“

„I...I would want to keep it, I think,“ Lyanna confesses. „But I'm afraid that I will be a terrible mother.“

„We can help,“ Benjen assures her. „You can move back in here and we can help. Me, and Ned, and Brandon, and dad, we will all help. And with three uncles and a grandfather, how bad can a kid really turn out?“

Lyanna gave her brother a little smile for his optimism. „But, even  _if_ I decided to keep it, I still don't know what I would tell Rhaegar. Or Robert. And...I love him.“ Lyanna finally mumbles.

„Who, Robert?“ Benjen snorted. „No, you don't.“ Then, like the information just got to his brain, his eyes widened. „No. You're in love with him? You're in love with Rhaegar? Do you think he is in love with you?“

„I think so,“ Lyanna admits. „But it doesn't matter even if he is, because either way, it's impossible for us to be together anymore.“

„Then,  Lyanna, you have to tell him. Who knows, if you tell him, then he might even leave his wife...“

Lyanna shook her head. „You should have seen them together today, Ben. They already have a daughter together, they're this picture-perfect family, and I'm just...me. And besides, I already broke up with him.“

„You did what? Lyanna!“

„Well, what else was I supposed to say? _Hey, congrats that your wife is pregnant, by the way, I'm pregnant too?_ No,“ Lyanna says, absently shaking her head. _„_ I said the only thing there was left to say.“

„So...what happens now?“ Benjen asks.

Lyanna sighed. „Now I figure out a way how to tell this to our father and brothers, and I guess we'll take it from there.“

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

„She says she'll be here any minute,“ Brandon says, looking at his phone. Brandon's _girlfriend,_  which was puzzling in itself - Brandon didn't have girlfriends, he had fuckbuddies - was running late.

And just sitting at the bar table, surrounded by the thick smoke and made deaf by the pounding music, Lyanna was already starting to regret this. But his _girlfriend_ had already met their father and both Ned and Benjen on different occasions, so Brandon thought it was time for Lyanna too to meet the elusive lady. And it was indeed a feat, to get Brandon to stick around for long enough as to meet his dysfunctional family. A family that would only get more dysfunctional as time passed.

„Hi,“ an unknown, but beautiful girl said as she approached the table; she briefly smiled at Lyanna, before turning to give Brandon a peck on the lips. „I am Ashara,“ she introduced herself then, extending a hand to Lyanna. Ashara was indeed extremely attractive, perhaps even in league with Cersei except that she was a different type; whereas Cersei was blonde, this girl had long dark hair and very distinctive purple eyes. The thought of purple eyes suddenly squeezed something in Lyanna's chest.  

Brandon flagged down a waiter to get them drinks; he ordered a beer for himself , a Cosmopolitan for Ashara, and almost ordered a tequila for Lyanna, who had to awkwardly substitute the suggestion for sparkling water. Needless to say, Brandon looked at her like she had brain damage.

A few seconds passed in nothing more than silence; Lyanna would have normally put in some effort, but too bad her mood already came crashing down.

 „Hey Lya, guess what,“ Bran then began saying, only claiming half of Lyanna's attention. „You know Rhaegar, your boss? Ash is best friends with his wife.“ And just when she thought the universe couldn't possibly spring anything new on her. Lyanna only let her jaw shift; she was pretty sure she could kill Brandon for waiting until now to disclose this information.

„I guess it's a small world,“ Ashara says, and Lyanna could agree on that one. So small it was beginning to feel suffocating.

Thankfully, and Lyanna never thought she'd in her life be grateful for this, Brandon and Ashara soon enough began ignoring her and leaving her to her rightful duty of the third wheel. A song Lyanna didn't know came on, one that was apparently Ashara's favorite, and it resulted in her trying to drag Brandon out onto the dancing floor.

„You won't mind Lyanna, right?“ she asked her. „We will be back in a jiff.“

Lyanna indeed did not mind. In fact being left alone, it took all her willpower to not down the beer Brandon had left behind himself, but even if she did, she doubted it would help her any. The shifting lights, the loud music, and the smoke around her all started feeling like a bit much, and soon Lyanna felt lightheaded. She visually measured the distance between the bathroom and the exit, but before she could move in either direction, the feeling of lightheadedness began getting worse. Lyanna stumbled back, disoriented; she was somewhere between seeing nothing but the colorful lights, and then seeing nothing but dark, and before she could do anything about it, her legs gave out and she felt herself lying on the floor.

Not long after, she vaguely heard both Ashara's and Brandon's voices; the last thing she heard was Ashara say something about a hospital.

 

* * *

 

„She broke up with me, Arthur,“ Rhaegar said, twirling the whiskey remaining in the glass that he held. „And I have no idea why.“

Arthur whistled slowly. „Well, that would be a first, for you to get dumped that is. I have got to meet this woman. And wait, she seriously did not give you a reason why? No _it's not you, it's me_ , no _I just need some space,_ nothing?“

Rhaegar somberly shook his head. „Nothing of substance. She mumbled something about Robert, but I honestly do not think that's the true reason why. She's been dating Robert for years, she's been sleeping with me for months, for something to just change overnight....I don't get it, Arthur.“

„But she knows Elia is pregnant, doesn't she? Maybe that's it, maybe she's pissed you've still been sleeping with your wife.“

Rhaegar shook the suggestion away. „No, she didn't even know about it at the time, I'd only just told her seconds before. I've thought it over a million times. There is no apparent cause to it. Do you -“ Rhaegar stopped, he couldn't believe he was about to ask for this, „do you think you could perhaps pry something out of Ashara?“ Ashara, Arthur's younger sister had been dating Lyanna's older brother Brandon. And, she was one of Elia's closer friends, but Rhaegar chose to focus on the former now.

„Well, I could try,“ Arthur says. „If I can think of half a good reason to randomly ask about her boyfriend's sister's love life, that is, but I am not issuing any guarantees. I have to say man, this girl seriously did a number on you.“

„I love her, Arthur,“ Rhaegar admits, shaking his head, „And she won't love me back. But I suppose that is what I get, for being a pig who instead of divorcing her is cheating on his wife.“

„There, there,“ Arthur says, patting him on the back. Then, to the waiter. „Get this man another whiskey on the rocks.“

„Thank you.“ As Rhaegar was working on drowning his sorrows, Arthur's phone buzzed. „Hmm, that's odd,“ his friend says, frowning. „Speak of the devil. It's Ashara. She says she's out with Brandon and your girlfriend. And hear this, she says Lyanna got sick, and they're taking her to the hospital.“

„What? There is something wrong with Lyanna? Are you sure?“ Taking the phone from Arthur, Rhaegar quickly scanned the dreaded message. „I need to go see her then, Arthur“ he said. „I need to make sure she's well.“

„She likely just got drunk“, Arthur shrugs. „And you're not driving in that condition.“

„Then we'll take a cab.“

 

* * *

 

_„The fall was most likely caused by dehydration from nausea. The baby is fine, but she has a minor concussion from her head hitting the floor.“_

By the time Lyanna slowly opened her eyes, and propped herself up against the pillows in bed, the doctor was gone and only Brandon was left, pacing and cursing while he was at it.

„I am going to kill him. I am going to kill Robert.“

„Brandon-“ Lyanna began.

„No. He knocked up my baby sister, and now he's going to die. Just you wait until he gets here.“

Lyanna rolled her eyes; this was definitely not how she planned for anyone, least of all Brandon to find out. But the damage was already done, and now she had certain stuff to clear up. She might as well just say it.

„It's not Robert's baby.“

At that, Brandon indeed stopped his pacing, and like somewhere between surprise and rage scowled. „What?“

„The baby, it isn't Robert's. It's Rhaegar's. We've been having an affair for some time now.“

Having finally let it out, Lyanna expected many things. She thought Brandon would yell and curse some more, possibly punch a wall, but she did not anticipate what ultimately ended up happening; Brandon simply took a detour from his pacing and went right out the door. Then, perhaps fifteen seconds later, she heard a punch being thrown and a scuffle developing. She quickly unhooked her IV, and ran herself barefooted into the hallway.

Indeed, there was a lot to be seen there: it was a giant mess of Brandon punching Rhaegar, and Rhaegar punching Brandon and even Robert trying to punch Rhaegar.

„Hey! Cut that out!“ With Ashara trying to hold back Brandon and Arthur trying to pull Rhaegar away, Lyanna settled on trying to hold Robert away from him with one hand, while she held the flimsy excuse of her hospital gown together with the other. This had little effect, other than enraging Robert further; in fact he swung at Rhaegar again, serving his elbow to go right into Lyanna's face.

„Ouch! Seven hells!“ She cried out, touching her fingers to her tender cheekbone. Though unfortunately at the expense of her face, at least it had been enough for them to stop. Somewhere in the middle of it, the hospital security also showed up, a nurse and Ashara went to Lyanna's side.

„Congratulations, you hit a pregnant woman,“ she spit at the three men, fixing a firm stare onto each of them. Out of all of them, this seemed to only come as a surprise for Rhaegar, apparently he didn't know why he was getting beaten up. Still, Rhaegar was the first to unfreeze from where he was standing; he moved to reach Lyanna's side, but Ashara stopped him. „You've already done enough.“

The security was having none of it either, the two quite corpulent men in black shirts began directing all three of them toward the exit. Lyanna didn't know why she felt relieved but she was.

„Rhaegar,“ Ashara called then, causing him to turn; Lyanna noticed he had a completely busted lip, she only didn't know if it was Brandon's or Robert's fault. „Wait up for me outside. You and I have a lot to talk about.“

„Come on. You need to rest,“ The nurse then cooed to Lyanna. But Lyanna was only looking at Ashara; things could only get worse from this point on.

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

Standing in the parking lot of the hospital, Rhaegar had been having a most uncomfortable discussion. Ashara had asked for him to wait, and, in a smart move for herself, sent Arthur away. This left Rhaegar, his guilt and Ashara to their own conversation. Rhaegar sighed.

„I will do the right thing. I will tell Elia.“

At this, Ashara snorted. „The right thing? The right thing would have been to stay out of your student's pants. How old is she? And just when I thought you couldn't possibly get anymore slimy.“

Ashara never did hold any special affection for Rhaegar. At the time, Rhaegar had considered it largely unwarranted, _it was warranted now_ , he thought.

He shook his head. „It is not... it's not the way you're making it sound. My behavior toward Elia is inexcusable, that is true, but I never took advantage of Lyanna.“ He licked his dry lips then looked down at the ground. „I love her.“

Ashara let out a bitter laugh. „And you think that makes anything better?“ Likely realizing that conversation was unproductive, she turned her head and spoke in a lower tone. „You need to fix this. I don't know how, but you're going to fix this.“

Rhaegar nods. „I've already been intending to speak to Elia-“

„No,“ Ashara cuts him off. „You won't say a thing at all to Elia, unless it's to tell her how much you love her and how lucky you are to have her in your life. You have a chance to make it right, and she doesn't need to know. Because that would only hurt her further.“

„But Lyanna is pregnant,“ Rhaegar protests. „It would be impossible to hide it-“ 

„So is Elia,“ Ashara says. „And she's frail, and doesn't need this stress in her life. Besides,“ she says. „You don't even know that is your kid. Lyanna Stark's morals appear to be as unwavering as yours.“

Rhaegar licked his lips, immediately feeling the urge to defend her honor, but another thing came to mind then. It was true, Lyanna's baby may not have been his. At the thought of it, Rhaegar felt a new wave of jealousy at Robert, one that could not compare to anything he'd earlier experienced. If that was indeed Robert's child, then Lyanna and Robert would be bound together thus to eternity. Rhaegar had wanted to be that man.

He acknowledged just how bizarre this line of thinking was, by all accounts he should have been praying the kid was Robert's. Yet, he could feel nothing but dread at the possibility.

 

* * *

 

Rhaegar played with the keys to his apartment (his and Elia's, he reminded himself), unsure of what to do. Elia had been inside, watching TV as far as Rhaegar could hear, and he thought that by standing here, he was lending her a few more minutes of carelessness. Or perhaps he was trying to give himself courage.

The last thing he wanted was hurting Elia. He could not help but wonder if perhaps Ashara was right, if telling Elia at this point would just be another stroke of his selfishness.

Elia needed him, but Lyanna needed him more. Elia had been mature, experienced and incredibly skilled at juggling the daily realities of life. And she's done this before, treating his help as nuisance more than anything else - perhaps she did not need him at all.

And Lyanna... oh Lyanna. If he knew her at all she was panicking, just like she does every time she's feeling trapped, except this wasn't an issue she could run away from as simply. It occurred to him that soon there may be no baby to speak of at all. Regardless, she needed his support. _Or perhaps Robert's,_ the bitter corner of his brain reminded, yet somehow he thought this unlikely regardless of the kid's paternity. He did not appear very forgiving at the hospital.

 He did not care at all about the child, Rhaegar decided, all he cared about was Lyanna.

Rhaegar made a decision. He firmly turned the key that was in his hand and within the lock, and let himself in. Elia, casual and unsuspecting, snapped her head around to look at him.

„We need to talk.“

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a tad short (and for the lack of R+L), I just decided to slice it like this so that Rhaegar's struggle would be in the focus here. The next chapter will have some R+L interaction for sure : D


	12. Chapter 12

 

Hearing her brothers' voices in the background still, Lyanna picked up her alcohol-free drink from the kitchen counter, then went outside through the backdoor and sat down on the porch.

Ever since they found out she was pregnant, or that she was sleeping with Rhaegar in secret, it appeared her brothers and father couldn't talk with her, only about her. It was all „what is up with Lyanna“, and „what will Lyanna do“ when she wasn't there, and when she would enter, they would only fall into an awkward silence. It was infuriating, enough for her to prefer the sound of their garden at night. If Lyanna concentrated hard enough, she could even hear the wolves howling in the forest near by.

Sitting there, it occurred to her that this was how her mother would punish her and her brothers, she would order them into a timeout and to sit silently out on the porch. Now, Lyanna was putting herself in one.

She looked up and saw Ned approaching; he crouched down with a beer in hand, then sat beside herself on the porch. It didn't seem like he came to say a lot.

„I know that you're probably angry with me,“ Lyanna began. „I guess, I just wanna say, I never meant to hurt either you or Robert. Now he will have to keep away, and I know you'll suffer for it. I'm sorry.“

Silence stretched out. Lyanna would call it uncomfortable had she not been feeling badly already. Then Ned sighed.

„I could never be angry with you, Lya,“ he says in a weary tone. „Robert is my friend, but you're still my little sister, and I want you to be happy. It's just...I always expected you and Robert would get married, have children-“

„I know you did, dearest Ned,“ Lyanna tells him with a weak, little smile. „It was probably why-  I always thought it was my fault I couldn't look at him through your eyes.“

Ned didn't say anything for the longest time. Then he asked. „Do you love him?“

It wasn't Robert he was talking about. Lyanna blinked down, and swallowed over the lump in her throat. „What use of it even if I do?“

„We can force him to marry you. You know, Brandon would volunteer...“

Lyanna was at first startled, then burst out laughing when she realized he'd made a joke. Dearest, old Ned. He did not joke much, but when he did it always caught her off guard. She shook her head. „Don't give him any ideas. It's enough that he beat him up.“

„Well, he did have it coming,“ Ned says with a mild smile. „So, what will be of you now?“

„Well, he will stay with his wife, because that's the right thing to do.“ Lyanna looked down at her fingers that were tapping on the porch. „And I will just keep being me. Plus or minus a kid.“

Ned laughed out loud. „Well, if anyone can do it, it's you. Not change after having a kid that is.“

Lyanna knew exactly what he meant. She (and her brothers) learned early on that her nature had a mind of its own that no one and nothing could correct. From her mother putting her in pink dresses that she would immediately tear off, to her father trying to force her to do something more worthwhile with her life, Lyanna wasn't moldable. There was one constant, never-changing entity called Lyanna, for better or for worse to all of those around her. The kid would just have to get used to it.

„What about you and Catelyn?“ She asked then, hugging her knees. She realized she completely forgot to ask about it, for all she knew they could have broken up.

„You stole my thunder,“ Ned tells her. „I proposed to her, but no one cares. They're all worried about you.“

Lyanna did a little facepalm against her knees. „Gods, I'm sorry.“

„No need to be,“ Ned says. „If you show up for the wedding that is, and promise to play nice with Robert.“

Lyanna made a little pause at first, then threw herself into his arms, hugging him. „I wouldn't miss it for the world.“

 

* * *

 

 

That morning, Rhaegar awoke to the sound of buzzing, and an excruciating stiffness in his neck. Then he remembered, he was on Arthur's couch. It served him just right, for Elia to kick him out after everything he'd sprang on her, and even if she hadn't, he likely wouldn't have wanted to stay. He stifled a yawn, and reached for his phone; the battery was dead.

„Here,“ Arthur says, tossing him something; it had been the charger. „I gotta go, but you know your way around this place. There's pizza and beer in the fridge, also help yourself if you need a change of clothes, since I'm pretty sure Elia already set fire to yours. There's also another set of keys on the table, and I'm pretty sure Lyanna called.“

„What? Lyanna called?“ Rhaegar asked, but Arthur had already left. He sighed and plugged in the charger into the socket on the wall behind the couch; the screen lit up. And sure enough, Lyanna called. There was also a text message. _„Meet me at my apartment. I think we need to talk.“_

Rhaegar got up and went to the bathroom, he showered, washed his face, and brushed his teeth with a spare brush that he briefly wondered if any of Arthur's girlfriends used. Then, he headed out. Most of all he'd been surprised, from her behavior the past few weeks, he would expect Lyanna would avoid him for the rest of her life. He hadn't seen her since that night at the hospital, and only through Arthur he knew she'd been discharged.

He went upstairs to her apartment, and saw she left the door open. He pushed in and she jolted upward from where she was sitting; she came to her feet, and erratically tried to straighten herself out. He closed the door behind himself.

„I am sure you're wondering why I called you,“ Lyanna begins awkwardly, clearing her throat. „There is something we need to talk about, but first of all, I wanna say, I'm sorry Ashara found out. I know she likely ripped into you for it, and it couldn't have been fun. And I suppose it's only a matter of time before she tells Elia, so I decided ahead of time to look for a job elsewhere. I can likely get a TA transfer...“

She wanted to leave. She wanted to leave him. As an employer, yet still, Rhaegar did not want for her to leave.

„Ashara did not tell Elia, and she has no intention to,“ Rhaegar explains. „However, I did. I told her last night.“

Lyanna's jaw suddenly dropped an inch or so away from her face. „But...why?“

 _Because I love you_ , he wanted to say, yet knew that would only freak her out and send her for the proverbial hills. He opted for a safer answer. „Because our marriage is either way little more than pretense. And because I just didn't want to lie to her any longer.“

Lyanna bit her lip, and thoughtfully nodded. „So how did she take it?“

Rhaegar sighed. „As well as it could have been expected. She wants to get a divorce, and move so that she can live closer to her brothers. It will make me seeing Rhaenys and... this new child more difficult, but we'll manage. How about you?“ he could not resist but ask. „What do you plan to do?“

„Well, I'm not with Robert anymore, if that is what you're asking, he's positively pissed at me, “ Lyanna mumbles. „And don't worry, neither of you is on the hook for the baby, if I even choose to keep it, I will keep it for myself.“

„I...Lyanna, I,“ he sighed. The subtle approach wasn't working anymore. He breached the few steps that were between them, and placed his hands at the sides of her face. „I want to be on the hook,“ he tells her. Lyanna looked up at him surprised, her grey eyes wide. „I want to be whatever you want me to be. I want to do what you want me to do. If you want me to stick around, fine. If you want me to get lost, fine. My point is, I want to be here, for you and this child.“

„You would do that?“ Lyanna asks of him seriously. „You would leave your wife for your mistress, that you don't even know if she carries your child?“

„I would,“ Rhaegar assures. „I don't care, the child could be Stranger's for all I cared, as long as it's yours, I will love it all the same. I just want to be with you.“

 „The baby is yours, you idiot,“ Lyanna tells him through the tears. „And yes, I'm sure, I know exactly when it happened. Why do you think I broke up with you in the first place? I called you and I was gonna tell you, but then you told me Elia was pregnant, and I just couldn't...“

„Lyanna. Oh Lyanna,“ he says then, wiping her tears off her face, then, he kisses her.

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

„I so missed this,“ Lyanna tells him, lifting a hand up to his face, dreamily tracing the tips of her fingers against his full lips. They were in her bed, both tangled in the warm sheets; it had been a little past 5 am, and neither of them had slept yet.

„I missed it too,“ Rhaegar tells her with a chuckle; he tried to catch her fingers with his mouth but she pulled them away. „Are you tired?“ He asked her then, shifting the hand that rested in the sheets beside him to now stroke her bare abdomen.

„Not really tired,“ Lyanna says, lifting a hand to stifle the yawn that bubbled on her lips. „But I could so go for a hamburger right now. Or five.“

Grinning that perfect smile, Rhaegar kissed her lips.  „Say no more.“ Her eyes lazily followed his lithe form as he got up from bed, and slipped into his pants. Then he left.

Lyanna lazily stretches her arms above her head, sighing and smiling at the same time; she did miss this after all, didn't she? But somehow it was different - neither one of them was running off, already making up excuses, and covering their tracks. They had nowhere to be; it was just the two of them, together. And they had all the time in the world.

She could hardly suppress a laugh when Rhaegar showed up in the doorway, carrying a wooden tray with breakfast on it, and even a vase with flowers in it. _Blue winter roses._ The grew outside in the garden, he must have gone out and plucked them and while the sappiness of it had Robert done it would normally make Lyanna cringe, all it did was make her smile. She did love the winter roses so.

„Funny, I didn't realize we were on a honeymoon,“ Lyanna mumbles awkwardly, touched in an odd way, but not sure how to go about it. Robert would have never done anything like that. Or maybe he would, but because he would think he was supposed to or that that's the type of shit girls, including Lyanna, want. But Rhaegar knew Lyanna didn't, that he was even risking her laughing at him; he did it for himself more than her, and in a strange way, she found that touching. Lyanna? Romantic? No, let's not even try to go there. It was just a bizarre, hormone-induced reaction, that was all.

„We could have it,“ Rhaegar says, tracing his long, elegant fingers on her arm as she devoured the food he'd set in front of her. „A honeymoon. If you wanted to.“

Lyanna looked at him, eyes wide. What was he saying? He wanted to get married? He wasn't even divorced from Elia yet. She forcefully swallowed down whatever was left in her mouth.

„Or not,“ he adds lightly, noticing her panicking reaction.

„No, no...it's just...I don't believe in marriage. I never did. The whole „I'll chain myself to the bed to prove how much I like sleeping“, it never made much sense to me. Isn't it more reassuring to just...stick around, you know? No strings attached. That way the other person knows you really want to be there.“ Silence. Oh shit, she done fucked up now, didn't she? Over the years, many people told Lyanna her logic regarding marriage was downright twisted, but she couldn't help it, it was just how she felt. And Rhaegar had to get it, right? I mean, he was sleeping with her while he was married to Elia, certainly he sees the flaw in the system.

„But, I mean if that's something that would be important for you, we could consider it...“ she added over the lump in her throat. „It just never seemed very important to me, you know.“ She could already picture herself in a frothy white dress, doing the whole shotgun wedding thing, it made her shudder; _no,_ definitely no. She would do it for him, if push came to shove, but she would not enjoy herself and she would have him know.

„No, it makes sense,“ he said, to her utmost relief and surprise. „I just never thought about it that way. Thinking on it now, I never thought about it at all. Back then, with Elia, it just seemed like something you were supposed to do.“

Lyanna breathed out a sigh of relief; crisis averted. Still, what if the whole commitment thing was really important to him? Something else occurred to her. „You know, there are these magnificent trees with mysterious engravings in the forest above my house, and the legend has it people used to worship them. They would pray to them, marry in front of them and all that stuff. And, according to the legend, the tree gods consider you married if you have sex in that forest.“

Rhaegar was frowning and smiling at the same time. „You wanna get married by going to a forest and having sex there?“

Lyanna shrugged. „Well, what's the worst thing that can happen? If the tree gods are real, then you get their blessing and endorsement for life. And if not, you had sex. It's a lot less dull than going down to the city hall and signing papers if you ask me.“

 

* * *

 

Lyanna was sitting in a coffeeshop, eating a bagel as Cersei sat opposite her, seemingly preoccupied with her phone. That was it. Her best friend was gonna dump her because she couldn't take 5 minutes out of her chaotic life to bring her up to speed on the numerous events that would permanently change everything.

„Cers? Say something? Did you even hear a word of what I just said?“

„I heard. You're pregnant. Rhaegar is getting a divorce from Elia and you are getting fake-married in a forest.“

„Yeah, but do you... have any opinions on it?“ Cersei had opinions on everything, and if she didn't judge you to your face that was likely because she was giving you the cold shoulder. She was still staring at her phone, texting someone back; if Lyanna had to guess she would say it was Jaime.

„Jaime says congratulations. You're not going to turn into a mombie, are you?“

„A what?“

„A mombie,“ Cersei gravely repeats, peeling her green eyes from her phone and fixing Lyanna with them. „A mom zombie; one of those women who can't stop talking about their babies and suddenly replace tequila shots with sippy cups and midnight parties with toddler playdates. Because if you are, then no matter how much I love you, I'm out.“

„No, I don't believe I will,“ Lyanna says. 

„Good, you better not,“ Cersei says, now putting down her phone. She still seemed somewhat aloof, angry at her, and who could blame her, Lyanna could have told her all of this much sooner. She still waited for some signature Cersei commentary.

„You know, the kid is lucky,“ she says, picking up her phone again as it vibrated. „Between you and Rhaegar, there are some great genes going around, he or she will almost certainly be hot.“

„Well thanks, Cersei, I suppose. Listen,“ Lyanna began; she didn't need to pull this right now, but when they were talking about it already. „Once the kid is born, it's gonna need a godmother. Or so Rhaegar says; I have no clue, I don't remember having one, but anyway. Since you're my best friend, it seems fitting to ask you, but if you're not into it, Cat offered-“

Oh, this had Cersei's attention. „Cat? Catelyn Tully?“ She wrinkled her nose with mild disgust. „Insipid little creature. I knew her before she was dating your brother, you know. She's unbelievably...dull.“

„It's a matter of opinion, I suppose,“ Lyanna says; she didn't particularly fancy Cat, but she didn't dislike her either, and they were going to be family, so for Ned's sake she was gonna try. „Anyway, she offered, and since I know you're not into stuff like that, I was gonna ask her...“

„No,“ Cersei says in a sudden elevated tone. „I'll do it. I mean, I can do it; what do godmothers do, anyway?“ She stopped with a suddenly disgusted face. „Wait, would I have to change its diapers? Because then she can have the job.“

„No diaper changing, I swear,“ Lyanna says. „You'll just be spiritual guidance for the kid and shit. Hey don't even ask me, it was Rhaegar's idea, not mine. He said a kid has to have godparents. He told me to ask you, and he's asking Arthur to be the godfather.“

„So, he is asking his best friend?“ Cersei made a humph sound.

„Yes,“ Lyanna replied, seeing she needed her ego stroked some more. „And I'm asking mine.“

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

They had exchanged vows under one of the magnificent trees there, _The Heart Tree_ , Lyanna dubbed it as the shape of the crown and the leaves reminded her of a heart. Rhaegar, as was his custom, appeared to have left little to chance, having thoroughly thought through all the things he wanted to say to her, while Lyanna, in her usual mumbling fashion said stuff which amounted to _I like you and I promise to keep liking you_. After this, contrary to Lyanna's expectations, Rhaegar took her hand and produced a ring out of thin air, a silver ring with a red ruby in its center.

The ring, which was beautiful and antique and far too sophisticated as to ever be allowed near Lyanna's chewed fingernails, had allegedly been in his family for generations; despite tradition, Elia never received it since Rhaegar's grandmother hadn't been a large fan of hers. The grandmother in question recently died, having left Rhaegar with the ring as heirloom, and Lyanna didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the idea of a vengeful, old woman up in the sky, resenting to whom her most prized piece of jewelry went. The woman didn't like Elia, measured and graceful Elia who was every mother in law's dream, surely if she had the misfortune of meeting her, she would have despised Lyanna.

„What are you thinking about?“ Rhaegar asked her; his body hovering over hers, he kissed her bare shoulder. They'd coupled in the grass not long after their vows; Rhaegar's tie was the first to suffer, and after it, the rest had been a blur of clothing articles, flesh and moans.

Lyanna  liked this, the nature, the wildness of it. She'd always likened herself to a feral creature, as much as to think she shouldn't have been born in civilization, but should have taken shape as one of the wolves she heard howling at night, roaming free and catching her food. And mating whenever the desire struck her, of course. She wondered what her child, their child would be like. If it would resemble her and its uncle Brandon, or would it pull in direction of Rhaegar's thoughtful, tame nature.

„The ring,“ Lyanna answered at last, she moved her hand before her as to get a better look at it. The ruby, as old as it had been gleamed as if it had just been cut yesterday. „It's beautiful. Too beautiful, even. I don't think I should be allowed to wear it.“

„You are beautiful,“ Rhaegar insists in his gentleman fashion, though they both knew if one of them was beautiful, it certainly wasn't her. Lyanna intertwined her hand in Rhaegar's hair, not for the first time wondering how any single man could have such beautiful hair; she noticed the gleam of her ring band shining through his silver locks. They kissed. Things soon turned heated again, as Rhaegar kissed her neck, the juncture of her shoulder, her breasts, and his hands traveled downwards; he would have gone on so had Lyanna not noticed something.

„Uh, Rhaegar? Remember when I asked what could possibly go wrong...“

„Yeah,“ he asked, never stopping what he was doing, and Lyanna didn't know whether to laugh or be frustrated that he would have to. But, Lyanna was pretty confident she'd seen a shift in the distance not too far away, though just how far away was difficult to tell.

„Well...“

Someone, a man by the sound of it, cleared his throat in the distance; both Rhaegar and Lyanna looked up to the distraction. They met the stoic face of her brother Ned, and the red cheeks of his fiance beside him, so red they were distracting from the auburn color of her hair.

„Oh god.“ Both Rhaegar and Lyanna scrambled to grab at any of the scarce articles of clothing laying around, but to no avail, there was no undoing the damage now. The other couple simply turned and left, leaving Rhaegar and Lyanna to laughter as they gathered their clothes.

 

* * *

 

„So what were the two of you doing here?“ Having dressed, Rhaegar and Lyanna caught up to her brother and his girlfriend, and now the four of them were sitting in the forest, gathered around a fire. What Rhaegar and Lyanna had been doing had been quite self-evident, and Lyanna wondered what lead to her luck of being seen naked by her brother.

„I... well, I remembered the stories our father used to tell us about these trees, and so I shared it with Catelyn. We thought it might be a good idea to get our early blessings here.“ A new blush emerged to Catelyn's cheeks, much reminiscent of the one from before. Still, Catelyn had been far too proper; Lyanna was willing to bet their idea of _blessings_ was different from what she and Rhaegar had in mind.

Lyanna took Rhaegar's hand, and entertwined their fingers. The ring band still felt strange around her finger, but she would get used to it, she supposed. „Well, the two of us had come here for the same reason.“ She showed the ring to the two of them, and saw both their eyes widen; Ned's with surprise, and Catelyn's with admiration for the ancient stone.  

„You had gotten married, and you didn't invite anyone?“ Ned sounded nearly hurt. Lyanna wondered how mortifying it would have felt had her entire family run upon them, and not just Ned.

„Yes. Well, sort of. We aren't _married_ married, paperwork and all, though we might do it if there's need for it. We also didn't intend to celebrate, other than for what you saw... but well, I didn't exactly want to invite father for that.“ All the most inappropriate things were coming to Lyanna's tongue; she knew Ned would forgive it for it, but she wondered if Catelyn would. She wondered at Catelyn in general. For the longest time, she'd been in love with Brandon, and even dated him briefly, yet Brandon being Brandon was not interested in a serious relationship. Ned had been in love with her all along, and that was the one love triangle Lyanna knew of that ended up working for the best. That, and her own relationship, she supposed, though that depended on who you asked.

„The two of us are getting married in a Sept.“ Catelyn shyly confessed. Lyanna figured as much, Catelyn did seem to her like a more traditional sort of lady. „I hope that the two of you can be there.“

Lyanna and Rhaegar exchanged looks; they spoke on this before, and decided it was for the best that Lyanna went alone. Robert was Ned's best man after all, and it did no good to tempt fate and potentially take the spotlight away from Catelyn and Ned. Rhaegar would have plenty of time to fit into the family, hopefully on occasions when Robert wasn't there, but it was still much too early for that.

„I will be there,“ Lyanna answered, hopeful she'd not be pressed further.

„Then, I hope it is not too much to ask you to be one of my bridesmaids.“ Lyanna gazed back at Rhaegar, who seemed a particular sort of amused she avoided her own wedding, yet was getting pulled into someone else's.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally decided to update this! With that said, I only have a vague idea of where this is going further; if any of you have any thoughts and ideas on which direction you'd like this to go, leave me a note :)


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